


if home is where the heart is (then we're all just fucked)

by hawktasha



Series: Zutara Fanwork Appreciation Week [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Bending (Avatar TV), Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Day 1: Hidden Gems, F/M, Fall Out Boy Lyrics, Minor cursing, POV Multiple, ZFAW, Zutara Fanwork Appreciation Week, Zutara Fanwork Appreciation Week 2020, Zutara Week, but imagine him composing and singing the lyrics, not really - Freeform, singer!zuko, zuko loves sulking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:40:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27662834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawktasha/pseuds/hawktasha
Summary: It was a matter of routine for Zuko, hopping from city to city and perform with his new band (if it could really be considered his).It was a matter of routine, until one night it wasn't and it all came crashing down. Her. The sole reason he was in the Freedom Fighters instead of continuing with Avatar, or even in his sister's band.If he was more like his uncle, he would think destiny was mocking him. But of course destiny wouldn't bother with someone like him and it was all his manager doing, alongside his old band companions.Would something good come from their meddling, or would everything become even more shattered?
Relationships: Background Sokka/Suki (Avatar) - Relationship, Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Zutara Fanwork Appreciation Week [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022698
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	if home is where the heart is (then we're all just fucked)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GrapefruitTwostep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrapefruitTwostep/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Twist Me to the Left](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10922388) by [GrapefruitTwostep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrapefruitTwostep/pseuds/GrapefruitTwostep). 



> HI! This is my first participation in the Zutara Fanwork Appreciation week.
> 
> Day 1 - Hidden Gem; inspired by 'Twist me to the left' by Grapefruittwostep on AO3  
> \--- It's also inspired by 27 from Fall Out Boy, so if you have the time go check it out too!
> 
> Before you read this, it's a standalone fic; but if you've read the piece that inspired me there a few things you have to consider to make sense.  
> 1\. The last chapter of 'TTTL' doesn't exist for this fic. What happens is that Katara and Zuko do meet, but they fight and get angrier at each other. Zuko doesn't return to Avatar, neither does he to his sister's band Burning Witches.  
> 2\. He is currently playing at the Freedom Fighters, which came from out of the blue (no mentions in the original fic)  
> 3\. Shira, a.k.a. an OC created by me (imported and adapted from one of my other works 'Crawling back to you) is a rookie manager and friend of Zuko from when they were kids, so she cares deeply about him (and also knows nothing about minding her own business)
> 
> See ending for more! <3

It was just a matter of routine for Zuko. 

Prepare a bag, fly through the country, help packing up the van, unload the instruments in the next shitty locale, they would play, and get the ball rolling. 

In another time, Zuko would have said he was living his dream. In another time, maybe, he could say he was happy too. But after having a real taste of what happiness truly was like, this life —the smell of cheap beer that’s embedded into the walls and floor of the locales they played at, the blinding lights that were aimed at the band, the sound of the strings and chaos of their instruments— didn’t seem like enough.

Not _without her_ anyway.

But that was a train that was long gone and would never come back.

Another number in his never ending list of regrets.

If only, — _perhaps, maybe_ — he had bitten his tongue, if only — _perhaps, maybe_ — he had controlled his temper.

Or if he had just made a move after, taken the initiative. But no, his bruised ego wouldn’t let him and now, well, he was nothing but an empty shell, really.

Because with her parting came the distancing of his friends as well. Also his fault, really; but _who could blame him_ for not wanting to see them when Katara’s name was in their tongues every time they met? Seeing them also reminded him of another failure he accomplished, how his music dreams were once again burned to ashes when they seemed to be — _almost, maybe_ — achievable. But he refused to bounce back to the _before_ , he refused to go back to hiding in his apartment and doing nothing but eat, work, sleep and repeat as he did back when his father crushed him.

That’s the sole reason he accepted the position an old friend offered him as main guitarist for a new group called _The Freedom Fighters_.

He remembers that day, three or four months back in time, when Shira appeared one afternoon in front of him in his uncle’s teashop asking —nearly begging— to introduce her to _Avatar_ and maybe consider accepting her as a manager. 

Of course she knew he was part of Avatar thanks to Uncle Iroh, but of course the old man forgot to update her about how he wasn’t part of the band anymore. Not that he blamed him or anything, everything went to shit in Zuko’s life in a matter of days and he didn’t even bother to let him now. He wasn’t ready to see the pity of his gaze once again directed at him.

_That day_ , Zuko remembers while plugging his guitar onto the amplifier, that damn day was what had brought him to this moment. 

Once the night was over, he was going to kill Shira. _Oh_ , and he will definitely make it _painful_. 

* * *

_~ Two weeks earlier, somewhere else ~ _

“ _Suki, dear; what is it?_ ”

“ _What is what?_ ” replied his beautiful girlfriend —wow he really is so fucking lucky for being able to call her _that_ — faking nonchalance. 

“ _You just squealed at my computer._ ” he states, eyebrow raised to exaggerate his point while he tries to take a look at whatever made her react that way. No such luck; the moment he made the move, she turned the laptop screen away from him. “ _C’mon! What is it!?_ ” he screamed, defeated. “ _Are there good news? There has to be good news from your reaction, right?_ ”

“ _It depends._ ” she answers, loosening her grasp on the screen, a wide mischievous grin splayed over her face. 

“ _It depends_ .” he deadpans. “ _On what exactly?_ ” 

His words only make her grin grow even wider — _how can that be possible, anyway?_ — “ _Oh, well. . ._ ” she starts, brushing a strayed lock of hair behind her ear. “ _How does free VIP tickets from the next Freedom Fighters show, plus plane tickets and accommodation, sound to you?_ ”

“ _Freedom Fighters?_ ” he squeals. 

“ _Yes_.”

“ _The Freedom Fighters, whose guitarist is Z—_ ”

“ _Yes_.” Suki answers, before he can even finish his sentence. 

“ _The Freedom Fighters who are currently touring around the country?_ ”

“ _Yes_.”

“ _Okaaaay._ ” he mutters, lengthening the ‘a’ while he tried to process the new information. “ _Okay_ .” he repeats. “ _What’s the catch?_ ” Surely, there has to be one. 

The guy, their former _friend_ , had not shown any living sign to any of them for the past months. Not since that explosive night. 

“ _Oh, there’s none._ ” Suki shrugs. 

“ _Did_ _he_ _really contact_ _you_ _? Out of the blue, to give you free tickets?_ ” he frowns, not believing a bit about the situation in front of him. “ _Even more, he, out of the blue, decides to give a trip worth a thousand dollars to all of us after he cut every tie with us and can’t even bother to answer any of our messages?_ ”

“ _That’s simple._ ” she states. “ _He hasn’t given us anything_.”

“ _Explain._ ”

“ _Their manager did_.” 

“ _Shira?_ ” Sokka remembered her. She had only met them a few times before Zuko ghosted them for good, but she made quite an impression in the band. Well, almost the whole band at least. He knew she came from a wealthy family, just as his former band member did one time, and that managing was her way to make a name for herself and to stop living from borrowed money. But still it didn’t explain _why_ she would waste so much of it on people she barely knew. 

“ _Yes, Shira._ ” she answers with an eye roll. “ _We’ve been in touch since you brought her to see Kyoshi play. She’s funny_.”

“ _You’ve been in touch? All this time?_ ” 

“ _Yes, we were._ ”

“ _And it never came up until now because…_ ”

“ _Because one, it’s not really any of your business. And two, she’s been jumping from city to city so we haven’t really met since._ ”

“ _Still doesn’t explain the tickets._ ” Sokka responds, growing suspicious with each passing second

“ _It does. But, well…_ ”

“ _Well?_ ”

“ _Now that you mentioned, there may be a catch._ ” she shrugs again, tilting her head slightly to the side. “ _More like a favor, really_.”

“ _Spill._ ”

With that, her Cheshire grin is back at her face. Closing the laptop with a sonorous ‘thum’, she crawled closer to her boyfriend, sitting practically on his lap. 

“ _Katara is coming with us_ .” she spits. “ _And as far as she knows… we’re not going to a Freedom Fighters concert. Not until she’s already inside the show at least._ ”

He couldn’t help the matching grin that started to grow in his own face. “ _Playing matchmaking, Suki?_ ” 

“ _It’s not matchmaking if the match has already been made._ ” she tsks. 

“ _Meddling it is, then_.”

She huffs, blowing her hair out of her forehead. “ _Call it what you want, I’m just sick of seeing my friends being miserable just because of their own stubbornness and stupidity._ ”

“ _How do you know he really is miserable? How do you know he hasn’t moved on? He has his own band now, it seems like things are going pretty good for him right now._ ”

“ _Shira, remember?_ ” she arches her brow. “ _Plus, he misses all of you too_.” 

“ _Fine, let’s do it_ .” he sighs faking exasperation, but his attempt lacked strength, as a small smirk tugged the corner of his lips upwards. “ _But, if this plan of yours fails I’m not taking an ounce of blame, do you hear me?_ ”

“ _Crystal clear, love._ ” she answered at the same time she crashed against him, practically tackling him onto the bed. “ _Crystal clear._ ”

* * *

Katara didn’t really know why she agreed to this. In the future, she would say only an insane person would say ‘no’ to a free trip at the expense of a well-off girl she didn’t even know; but truth be told, that wasn’t her reason. Not even close.

But as her friends left her in the dark regarding their true intentions —or at least, they tried—, she saw her opportunity. 

So much time had passed until that moment and she couldn’t help but wonder why she let that happen; why she left the distance grow wider and why she couldn’t just gather the courage earlier. It wasn’t just _pride_ , she knew it. Pride was just a fancy excuse. 

Deep down she knew; she felt broken, but not because of him or his words but because of her own. Because of the look in his face when she spoke those words out loud. It wasn’t the first time she said them, that’s true; but it was the first time since they came to a truce and since they ended up becoming friends. _Friends_ , what a funny word. Katara knew they were more than friends. In fact, everyone knew. But. . . Did he still know? Would he still want it? Because she did. _Oh, how damn hard she wanted it_. 

But they had fought each other, and screamed at each other. Yet, she was the one who delivered the final blow. 

She wasn’t stupid, she knew her chances were narrow, but she wasn’t one to back up from a fight. That was partially what put her in this position for the first time, come to think about it.

Worst case scenario, she’d leave this city and return back home still _heartbroken_ —even moreso—; but at least she would be able to get some closure. To say she was sorry. If nothing else, he deserved to have her apology. He could do whatever he wanted with it later.

They were already at the local venue where the concert was taking place; her friends and herself among another few people, maybe 20 or 30 more than themselves; right in front of the stage. Perks of having VIP tickets, she supposes.

 _Shira and Suki have outdone themselves_ ; she thinks, slightly biting her bottom lip, trying to placate her nerves. 

Her friends still believed she was unaware of their plan, that she just thought they were at some random concert they had won the tickets on the net. It was amusing, or a little insulting, for them to think Katara was so easily deceived. But then, little did they know she had been keeping an eye on the Freedom Fighters for a while. Where they’d play, with who they’d go; that kind of thing. Particularly focusing on what a certain guitarist was up to.

It was her personal kind of _torture_.

So when Suki and her brother had come to her house, tickets in hand, a crazy idea crossed her mind and she didn’t even bother to think twice before she agreed. 

There were numerous reasons why being there was not a really great idea; but there were a couple others that had given Katara the strength to continue with her plan. One, if her friends were trying to keep her in the dark for this ‘surprise’ meeting, he had certainly no idea what was going on. And two, if her friends were on board, she knew they wouldn’t get in her way once she found him.

Knowing that and what she wanted didn’t calm her nerves nonetheless.

Lost in thought, she nearly missed the petite girl announcing their show, the lights starting to blink while the amplifiers roared and the group made their way to the stage. 

What she didn’t miss —and couldn’t ever miss, even if she tried— was the way he graciously walked to his position, guitar in hand; his amberine gaze analyzing the crowd, seeming almost bored. Or at least he seemed to be until his eyes fell on her. 

In another situation, she might had bursted into laughter due to his comical reaction, to the way his eyes widen —even his scarred one— in a way that resembled a cartoon drawing; but right now, being half centered, half immersed in her inner turmoil, she’s sure her comforting smile looked more like a disgusted grimace. 

His shock didn’t last long though.

One of his group members walked to his side, microphone in hand, and placed his free one over Zuko’s shoulder while he announced a new and different opening.

 _Weird_ , Katara thinks. They had never changed their opening. Not that she knows, of course. (It wasn’t like she rewatched their concerts online, _not at all_.)

A new song. _Interesting_ . Even more interesting was the look on Zuko’s face and the way his shoulders tensed. _What is going on?_

Reluctantly, Zuko walked to the center of the stage where his partner placed back the microphone with a knowing smirk and a wink. _The fuck?_

Katara knows, by the expression on the older boy’s face that, if he wasn’t in the middle of a concert, he would have growled out loud. Even so, he seemed to bounce back to his stoic self in a matter of seconds, scrubbing at the back of his neck briefly before he talked to the public. His voice, reverberating in the amplifiers and over the crowd is enough to make Katara’s legs feel like jelly.

Lost in her mind again, Katara barely heard what he said before he started to move his fingers over the strings of his guitar, eyes half lidded and a more relaxed posture.

And then he was _singing_ . And _oh_ , _how he sang_.

He doesn’t have an exceptional voice, nor can he reach the kind of notes Aang is able to reach; but his baritone is doing wonders to her ears along the sound of the guitar and the other instruments. 

And the _lyrics_. 

If nothing before could calm her nerves, that did it. She _wanted_ this. She wanted this so much. And she wasn’t _scared_ anymore. She was going to fight, tooth and nail, to gain back his heart and nurture it and protect it from all harm. She was going to put back the pieces she helped destroy and scatter, and she would never leave anyone get close enough to pierce them ever again.

  
The rest of the performance became insignificant for her, the words from that very first song playing again and again in her brain. _If home is where the heart is_ , creeping inside of her body and making a home inside her ribcage, making her breath get laboured. A bittersweet pain she didn’t totally enjoy, but couldn’t get herself to hate.

* * *

He was going to kill Shira, he was going to make his manager suffer a painful and prolonged death and he wasn’t going to feel a bit guilty about it. But of course, all of his murderous plans would have to wait until he could escape the shithole backstage he was currently hiding in. Or until he was sufficiently wasted to not care about being seen or being talked to or _whatever_.

He could even hear her voice in the back of his mind while he tried —and failed— to enjoy his whiskey, mocking him for sulking. 

Zuko did not sulk. Not at all.

He was currently having a minor mental breakdown due to the girl he can’t get out of his mind being in his damn concert in the fucking first row. 

Maybe, if he were brave enough—or drunk enough—he would be outside, in the bar. Maybe he even would try to talk to her. But how could he?

He remembered their last encounter perfectly. The way her jaw tensed and her fist shaked over her hips. How she narrowed her eyes at him while she spat those damned words.

‘ _You’re just like your father_.’ It hurt, it hurt so damn much. It wasn’t the words itself, neither was it the first time she said them. It was the way she believed them to be true what shattered him and ended the argument. He almost feels as breathless as he did just by remembering.

He couldn’t answer then, and wouldn’t answer now. If she saw the heartbreak in his eyes, he didn’t care. 

That was how she found him. Half empty glass in one hand, a brownish opened bottle of whiskey over one of the amplifiers. He lay sprawled on what looked like some sort of attempt at being a couch.

He was so deep in his own thoughts he missed the noise the door made when it closed, missed the light thumps against the carpeted floor her footsteps made. He missed it all until she was barely a metre from where he was, her hands on her hips. And then there was no escaping route.

His minor mental breakdown was quickly turning into a great short-circuit.

He made the effort to stand up even when all he wanted to do was to sink further into the cushions.

Seconds passed, minutes passed; and they stood in silence eye to eye, none of them daring to break the silence. He used those moments to take a look at her, a real look. When his eyes fell on her figure back on the stage he couldn’t really look. Not if he planned to survive through the whole performance. Instead he focused his gaze as far away from where she was standing or closed his eyes for good. 

Now… now he didn’t have much choice.

She looked exactly the same, if not more ethereal. If this wasn’t the second time he saw her already, and if she had dematerialized during the group performance; he would believe he’d gone insane. Delusional.

But there she was, in front of him. Beautiful, glowing, smiling. _Wait_ , _why is she smiling?_ She hated him. She should hate him. She left that pretty clear last time.

“ _Hey._ ” she finally whispered. As if she dared to speak any louder, he would run away, or the moment would break.

But Zuko couldn’t run even if he wanted to, no. He was glued in his spot.

“ _Hey_.” he replied, more like croaked; unsure of his own voice if he even tried to say something else.

And the silence was there again.

“ _So._ ” they both spoke at the same time, which caused Katara to laugh. God how he missed that sound, even when right now sounded more forced than normally, more artifical than natural.

She pulled at one of the locks in her hair, fidgeting with the crease between her fingers. She was nervous. Zuko remembered how she used to do the same before their shows, or when she was about to do something she was unsure of. Not that he was any more calm than her.

But as the silence threatened to extend around them again, Zuko couldn’t stand it anymore. The questions, the fears; everything he had been bottling up inside him until that day was threatening to spill out and he couldn’t have that. Not if he wanted to leave the room physically and psychologically in one piece.

“ _Why are you here, Katara?_ ” he muttered, breaking eye contact. 

“ _Why would I be, Zuko?_ ” she mocked, crossing her arms over her chest. “ _Your manager was so considerate and sent us a few tickets for the show. It wouldn’t be polite not to come_.”

He huffed, blowing his bangs out of his forehead. “ _I got that much, yes._ ” he growled. “ _I meant; why are you_ _here_ _, Katara, backstage_.”

“ _Oh that’s sim—_ ”

But before she could continue he was already rambling, his hand jumping from the air to his neck and back to his hips, while he continuously paced around the room. “ _Because I know you, and I think I came to understand you pretty good in the past to not know a damn thing about what you are doing here in this precise moment. In fact, I don’t even understand why you stayed during the whole concert after finding out who was going to be on the stage. Knowing you, ha; knowing you—you should be on your way home on some random plane you could get in as long as you were far from here_ .” _From me_ went unsaid but was implied anyway.

“ _Zuko_ .” she tried to cut in his monologue, to no avail. “ _Zuko!_ ” she tried again, louder, placing herself in his way. But it only helped stop the pacing.

“ _And seriously, how did you even get in here? Isn't there supposed to be a security team outside? But again, if Shira was involved in all of this, of course you could get in_ . _That leaves us at the beginning again, why would you even be here!?_ ”

“ _Zuko, I knew from the beginning!_ ” she screamed at the top of her lungs, causing the older boy to stop talking and cast an incredulous glance her way. _Fucking finally._

“ _What do you mean you ‘knew’?_ ” he asked, a high pitched note falling from his throat.

“ _I mean I knew where I was going_ .” she answered with an exasperated sigh. He tried to speak, but she cut him off with an extended hand in his direction. “ _I mean I knew you were going to be here. It means I came, willingly, to your concert. To see you_ . _It means. . ._ “ she breathed out, her gaze focused on a stain that adorned the room’s carpeted floor like it was the most marvelous thing to look at. 

“ _It means?_ ” he asked, so low she wouldn’t be able to hear him if they weren’t even at arm's length. _And when did they get that close?_ His voice was shaky, and he hated it. He hated how scared he sounded, how afraid he was, indeed, of her answer. But what he hated the most was the uncertainty of what he was being afraid of. _What was she even going to say? What had brought her there, across half the country, after nearly four months?_ He was far from being okay, he knew it; but he wasn’t as bad as he was at the beginning; and he certainly didn’t want to be destroyed back again.

But she looked just as shattered as he felt, and just as unsure as he had been in the recent past. So he dared to take some air, one single and long breath, while he waited for the pain to come.

“ _It means I missed you_ .” she spoke gently, afraid, still not looking at him. _“And it means I’m sorry! I’m so sorry for what I said last time we spoke. I’m sorry for not reaching back once we fought. I’m sorry for pushing you away!_ ” she screamed the last sentence piercing Zuko with her gaze. It was in that moment where he saw the little moisture gathering in the corners of her eyes, the slightly trembling of his shoulders.

She was fighting the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes, and yet refused to back down from that conversation. If he ever thought she was strong before —and he did it almost on a daily basis— he was being proven such right now.

Zuko was startled. He wanted to talk, to answer her; but his brain wasn’t cooperating with his mouth. He saw how her eyes broke the connection with his own face and dropped to the floor, apparently taking his silence as his answer.

“ _Well_ ,” she muttered. “ _That… that was why I’m here_ . _Now… Now I’ll go_.” And with that sentence, she turned her back on him and started walking to the door.

The sound of the handle being turned enough to break the spell Zuko was under, allowing him to finally speak out loud instead of just in his head.

“ _You’re wrong!_ ” he shouted, with enough force to startle Katara, who turned back to face him once again.

“ _Excuse me?_ ” she asked arching her brow, but the gesture lacked force. She gave away her whole energy in her speech.

“ _I said that you’re wrong_ .” he repeated, lower this time. And before she could interrupt him, this time he was the one to hold a hand in her direction to stop her. With a deep breath, and gathering what little courage he had in him, he closed the distance that separated them, stopping only a few inches away from the girl. “ _You didn't push me away, Katara_ . _I ran away on my own_.” 

“ _No, Zuko._ ” she replied, her lower lip slightly trembling. “ _What I said to you…_ ”

“ _We were arguing, Katara. We both said pretty ugly things._ ”

“ _Don’t patronize me, Zuko! You are the one that’s wrong_ .” she screamed, stepping in his personal space. “ _I was angry, libid even, at you. And I have no reason to be beside that I was afraid. But even if I had a good reason, Zuko; what I did was so wrong. I took one of the things I knew would hurt you the most, one thing I didn’t even thought about you; and threw it at your face! Just to hurt you! Just to win the damn argument and not having to focus on the real issue._ ” Her breathing was labored, and now the tears ran freely down her cheeks. Zuko had to fight the urge to wrap the girl in her arms and soothe her until she was calm again; whole again. Zuko had to fight a lot of urges to protect that girl from anything that dared to harm her in any way or form.

He raised his right hand to her cheek and tried to wipe the tears he could get away, the rest of his palm resting over her jaw. 

She should hate him, he remembered. She should refuse his touch too, but yet she was. And truth be told, Zuko wanted nothing more than being able to touch her, even if it was in the slightest gesture.

“ _What were you afraid of, Katara?_ ” he muttered, his voice rasped.

She closed her eyes, those cerulean eyes he almost wished to drown for the eternity, and leant into his palm. Her own coming to rest above his, trapping his hand between her cheek and hand. She opened her eyes again, the hand above his lightly tightening her hold. “ _Do you really need to ask?_ ” she whispered.

“ _Please._ ”

“ _Of you_.”

“ _I see_.” he said, dropping his hand and taking a step back from the girl. Or at least, he attempted to before she jumped over him and stopped him in his tracks with a loud ‘no’; her hands tightly curled around his wrist.

“ _That’s not how I meant it, Zuko!_ ” she shouted, shaking her head from side to side. “ _That’s not what I meant at all_ .” she repeated, this time lower than the first; still without loosening her grip on his wrists. With a sigh, she bit her lower lip and then breathed again. Focusing her gaze on his, she showed a new determination even though her eyes were still puffy and red from the tears. He wished he could show that fierceness as well in the moment. “ _I was afraid of you, of letting you in_ .” she spoke softly. “ _I was afraid you’d hurt me, break me even. When Aang saw us in the backroom, our world started tumbling again and I couldn’t have it. I blamed you, and I’m so sorry. I was so wrong._ ” she loose her wrip, moving her hands down until they reach his own and intertwined her fingers with him. “ _I was living in my little bubble, y’know. Everything was perfect, controlled. I didn’t know for how long I had been inside of it, maybe since my break-up with Jet, maybe later on the road. The only thing I know is, at some point, I created this world where everything was controlled and measured. But then. . ._ ”

“ _But then I appeared and burst your bubble_.”

“ _Yes_ .” she muttered with a tiny smile; her right hand dropping his and being softly placed on his left cheek, over his scar. Even with his nerves damaged he felt the electricity ran over his muscles where her touch lingered. “ _It was unexpected, and foreign; and it scared me. No, it freaked me out Zuko_.”

“ _I’m sorry_.” he mumbled, dropping his head and separating from her touch.

“ _Don’t be_ .” she firmly said, now both of her hands cupping his face, forging his gaze back on hers. “ _It freaked me out how far I had fallen for you, Zuko_.” 

If it wasn’t for the sharp intake of air that her words produced he could have swear he had passed out and imagined the whole exchange. But it wasn’t in his mind nor was he dreaming. There she was, the girl that plagued his mind and dreams, her hands on his face and a smile so bright it could compete with the sun itself.

He wasn’t really proud of what he did next. But he couldn’t help it. He exploded in laughter.

And before she could recede from him, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed her body against his tightly.

She was there, she was real, and _she was in love with him_.

“ _We’re fucking idiots._ ” he muttered against her ear, the laughter drained. 

He stayed in that position for a few more minutes, Katara mimicking his actions herself and wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulder; before he leaned back. Just a few inches.

“ _Katara,_ ” he spoke again but just as low as before. There was no need to raise his voice. Not when they were this close, not when nothing outside from the two of them mattered at the moment. “ _I am so inevitably and terrifyingly in love with you_.”

“ _Oh, spirits_ .” she growled, pressing her forehead against his. “ _We are fucking idiots_.” 

And this time they both were laughing, openly and teary laughing. 

It took a few minutes and several breaths to regain the calm they lost, still wrapped in their embrace. 

“ _I have a question_.” Katara spoke.

They finally made their way to the couch Zuko was formerly on, drinking his nearly untouched bottle of whiskey and laughing about themselves.

“ _Shoot_.”

“ _What was that song called? The one you opened the concert with_.”

Zuko arched an eyebrow, amused. “ _27, why?_ ”

“ _I. . . nevermind, it’s a silly thought._ ”

“ _Katara._ ”

“ _I said it’s silly, forget it_.”

He didn’t drop it. Instead, he gently grabbed her chin with his forefinger and thumb and turn her face slowly to his. “ _C’mon_ .”  
“ _I was wondering if it was. . . I was wondering what inspired you to write it, that’s it._ ”

“ _You were wondering if it was about you_.” he continued her line of thought, a smirk growing in his face and a clear amusement draw in his factions.

“ _I didn’t say that_.”

“ _Huh_.”

“ _Okay, fine!_ ” she shouted, looking at anything but him. “ _I said it was silly_.”

“ _It isn’t_ .” he cuted her, causing her turn back to him with a disbelieving look in her eyes. “ _And. . ., I think it’s pretty obvious who my song was about. Even more obvious when that very same girl was standing in front of me and I couldn't even look at her without fainting._ ”

“ _Don’t be dramatic._ ” she shakes her head, patting his shoulder twice while she spoke. But even mocking him, she was beaming from his answer. Zuko would do anything to preserve that look on her.

“ _What does it mean?_ ” she spoke again.

“ _The song?_ ”

“ _No, dummy. The title. Why 27?_ ”

“ _Oh._ ” he sputtered, leaning his back against the arm of the couch and rubbing his neck nervously. “ _Well… I didn’t know how to name it at first._ ”

“ _Hm?_ ”

“ _So. . . I practically planned to leave it untitled. It wasn’t like I was going to perform it for anyone. It wasn’t supposed to be a band song. It was_ **_my_ ** _song._ ” he felt himself start mumbling and closed his mouth, reorganizing his thoughts before continuing. “ _Anyway. One day I was doing nothing on my computer and I stumbled upon this shitty article and it just kind of hit me. So I named it ‘27’._ ”

“ _I still don’t understand, Zuko_.” she said with faked annoyance.

“ _The article said it takes 6 to 7 months to get over a broken heart._ ” he continued playing with a lock of her hair. “ _In fact, it read that it takes 27 weeks to recov--_.” 

She didn’t let him finish. Instead, she launched over him knocking the air out of his lungs. Her legs were wrapped around his waist as strongly as her arms encircled his neck, her face buried on the crook between his shoulder and neck.

He placed his own hands around her back as a reflex, laughing at her reaction.

He could feel more than hear the muttered ‘ _I love you_ ’s against his skin, which he answered in his own silent way by rubbing circles over her back and caressing her hair back and forth. 

After a while, they pulled apart from each other, but not entirely.

Just as when they were still standing, Zuko’s arms were firmly placed around Katara’s body, encircling her in his warm embrace and not wanting to let go in the lightlest; while hers rested over his shoulder and chest.

“ _Well. . ._ ” she said after a few minutes —or maybe hours—, completely turning her body to face him.

“ _Well?_ ”

“ _Are you going to kiss me now, or do I have to stubbornly wait another three months?_ ” she smirked.

He could have mocked her and said ‘ _four_ ’, he could have teased her even and said ‘ _what if I don’t_ ’. Instead, he did as she told and pressed his lips gently against hers.

It wasn’t the first time —the kiss they both shared in the backroom of one of Avatar’s shows forever imprinted in Zuko’s mind—, but it was as good as the first. Even better.

Because this time there was no uncertainty in the exchange, no fears or doubts either. 

They were just Zuko and Katara, and they were finally together.

If someone had asked Zuko what happiness was like a year ago he would have answered that having their first record and tour with Burning Witches was the best thing that could ever happen to him.

If someone had asked Zuko four or six months ago he would have answered that being in Avatar was pretty close to being happy, if happiness even existed.

If someone asks Zuko what happiness is like from now on; he would never hesitate to say that, this; having Katara in her arms, her lips moving against his own, her voice saying ‘ _I love you_ ’ not once, nor twice but _thrice_ ; this is what happiness feels like.

It seems that after all, he wouldn't be killing Shira that day but chanting his thanks over and over again to her.

In fact he decided at that moment that, if Katara ever accepted his hand, he was going to ask her to be their bridesmaid in the wedding.

  
  
  


* * *

**_— omake —_ **

“ _So did you two kiss and make up already?_ ”

“ _Toph!_ ”

“ _Is that a no?”_

“ _..._ ”

“ _Fantastic!_ ” the little girl shouted, pumping her fist in the air. “ _Sparky, grab your things! The gang's back together!_ ”

“ _What?_ ” the boy in question croaked. “ _I’m in a new band Toph, I can’t go back_.”

“ _Oh, hmmm; you aren’t._ ” his manager mumbled from the back of the group.

“ _What, Shira?_ ”

“ _Surprise? You’re fired_.” she said with a mischievous smile.

“ _What about the band? You can’t leave them without a guitarist in the middle of a tour_.”

“ _Oh, don’t worry about that. I have it covered._ ” she said while searching for something on her tablet. “ _See, I had a guitarist booked a few weeks ago in case the operation succeeded._ ” she continued turning the screen to the group, a large profile photo displayed on it. “ _His name is Jet_.”

**Author's Note:**

> On today's promt, I bring you all this piece inspired by the greatest piece of work I've ever read. It includes all a wannabe-rockstar girl like me adores: bands, sexy people, alcohol and drama. If you like this, YOU'D LOVE THE ORIGINAL THAT INSPIRED ME SO GO CHECK GRAPEFRUITTWOSTEP WORK 'TWIST ME TO THE LEFT'.  
> Technically, I don't know if it would be consider a 'hidden gem' but for what I know, little people know it or know of its existence and for me that's totally NOT okay. (Also, all their works are amazing, seriously, check them out).
> 
> As always, love you and if you like this don't forget to leave kudos!
> 
> (Also, if anyone read my other works: no, I haven't forget to post it bUT the zk fanwork appreciation week came earlier than I expected for my procrastinating butt).


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